To The Waves
by awkwardlittleintrovert
Summary: England/Fem!America. England's boss hired an assassin to kill the woman he loves becuase it's dangerous for nations to fall in love with humans. He's not ready to give her up but eventually he will have too. Written for a Christmas gift exchange on Tumblr. Oneshot.


"She's gone." Arthur barely registered the words he himself had whimpered. Gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone _gone_. What a _cruel_ twist of fate indeed, he has expected to be the one to leave but now there she was lying dead on the floor in a puddle of her own blood and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I'm sorry, sir, but she had to go." The horrible voice interrupted in an apathetic monotone. "You were getting too close, you see? We can't have nations falling in love with humans, it would end badly for all of us."

" _SCREW THE RULES, I LOVED HER AND THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING YOU COULD_ _ **EVER**_ _DO TO CHANGE THAT!_ " Gone was his godforsaken composure, for all he could do was shout and shout until his voice was hoarse and almost dead about the injustice of it all. "Sh-she's gone, and it's all your fault." He croaked in a heartbroken voice. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, he was supposed to leave when it got too dangerous, but _no_ , she had to leave him and now she was gone forever.

"No no no no no no no _no_ ," He chanted under his breath until his mind was nearly exploding. "It's a dream, I'm dreaming and she'll be _fine_ and not _dead_." He tried to convince himself in vain but his heart new that what he was seeing was real, that she really _was_ dead, and oh it was destroying him from inside out until all he could feel was calm, but it was the most screwed up feeling of calm he'd ever experienced, more of a lack-of-all-emotions sort of calm, one that was continuing to destroy what was left of his heart and soul.

Rising from his kneeling position on the ground he faced his lover's assassin. "Bring. Her. _BACK_!" He screamed.

"Now, you know I can't do that, Mr. Kirkland."

"Then tell me who sent you!"

"I can't do that either, sir."

Wordlessly, he shoved the assassin hard against the wall, and backing up, extended both hands out. "I'll kill you."

It hurt like hell, doing magic with the aid of potions, rational thinking, a wand, or even his spellbook.

But he did it anyway, manifesting the hatred and injustice within him and pushing it out in a deadly wave of pure green-tinted destruction to kill the assassin.

"I hope you rot in hell with whoever sent you here today."

It had been a week of trying to find a spell to fix Amelia. Yes, fix her. She was gone, but he was certain there was a way to bring her back.

Arthur slammed his head into the book from frustration.

"All these spells have _impossible_ ingredients. Aubergine feathers? Where the hell am I supposed to find _purple_ feathers? Yeah, let me just pull out my purple dye and color some chicken feathers." He scowled, rubbing his temples while looking wistfully at the shape lying on his bed. "Amelia, love, I promise I'll find a way to bring you back," he choked, "I promise."

He never did find a way to bring her back. She was gone, permanently now. Arthur had traveled the world in his library, asking the books a lot of "totally hypothetical" questions about how to bring people back from the dead. He had encountered a lot of folklore- Greek myths about Hades and how he occasionally let people come back from the death, Japanese lore about death and reincarnation, Egyptian stories about how to preserve a body so it would be content in the afterlife, but nothing, _absolutely nothing_ that was relevant to his current situation.

Even if he had found something in the last few days, it would have been useless. Amelia's body was beginning to decay, her skin turning a marble-gray and her eyes becoming even glassier despite the spell he had cast to protect her body from the natural stages of death.

Arthur sighed, knowing in his heart that it was time to truly give her up and move on. He performed a spell on her body to cremate her, knowing that was what she had wanted after death rather than some ridiculous stuffy funeral.

He made a journey to Cornwall, England, knowing that his love had enjoyed frequent trips to the coast. When he arrived, looking over the cliffs, he pulled the bag of her ashes out of his bag. "Amelia-" he choked, "I will always love and remember you for the amazing person you were. I wish we had gotten more time together, although our love was doomed from the beginning. You will live forever in the heart of this country, my love."

He scattered them in the sea where the tides ripped them apart and she was finally gone to the waves.


End file.
